


use the sleeves of my sweater.

by haydenmd



Series: hayden alexander's unnamed jatp series. [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Angst, Autistic Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), F/M, Gen, Luke POV, M/M, Trans Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28929957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haydenmd/pseuds/haydenmd
Summary: luke had been glad when his dysphoria shifted from being in the wrong body to being in no body, but that all comes crashing around him after playing the orpheum.
Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters, Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms)
Series: hayden alexander's unnamed jatp series. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118744
Comments: 3
Kudos: 94





	use the sleeves of my sweater.

**Author's Note:**

> as with my previous jatp fic ("love only left me alone."), this one also includes autistic!luke. i used some of my own autistic traits, specifically my minor stutter & my oral stims, for this.
> 
> this takes place in the same continuity as lolma (specifically, before it), but you do not need to read that fic to understand this one, as neither leads into the other.
> 
> title is from "sweater weather" by the neighbourhood. it makes sense when you get to the stimming moments.
> 
>  **triggers:** descriptions of dysphoria, unsafe binding (not taking a binder off for extended periods of time & exercising in a binder)

The one thing Luke had been on board with after becoming a ghost was the lessened dysphoria. Without a corporeal body, most of the dysphoria the first few weeks had been about being intangible as opposed to being in the wrong body. It was blissful to have something else to focus on when it came to his body.

But after he had adjusted to being a ghost, and especially after the Orpheum performance, dysphoria came smashing back into his life. It had happened one day in rehearsal. He was jumping around, strumming his guitar as he always did when he felt a pressure on his ribs. Luke stopped jumping around, deciding to stand still, figuring that would solve his problem. A few minutes later, after they finished that runthrough, he sat on the couch, claiming to be worn out. That was when he felt it.

The press of his breasts against his binder.

He had died wearing it and since they didn’t need to breathe anymore and were made of air, he felt no need to ever take it off. After all, the phantoms had been distracted by the fact that they were ghosts with no bodies to speak of to focus on changing clothes. Even after they figured out that they could, it was all just to regain some normalcy in their (after)lives.

But after jumping and sweating for the hours of rehearsal, he was finally feeling it. That was going to bruise.

Luke looked up, noticing the concern in Julie’s eyes. “It’s fine,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss concern. “Just my ribs hurt after all that exercise.”

“Your _ribs_? That’s weird. Don't you mean, like, a stitch in your side or something like that?” she asked, wanting to make sure her boyfriend was okay.

Fuck. He should have just gone with that. Now he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Most people don’t get rib pain from exercise. They get other types of pain, sure, but this is a trans issue.

“Uh, y-yeah,” Luke pointed at her, nodding to cover his shame at almost getting caught, “That’s what I meant. Have a stitch in my side, yep, that’s what my pain is.” Stupid brain making him flap his hands and stutter through the agreement. Now she would know something was wrong.

“Okay. Well, if you can take it, there’s some Tylenol in the bathroom behind the mirror.” She nodded, dismissing herself, a worry still clear on her face, but not wanting to make it worse.

As soon as Julie was out of the studio, Alex was next to Luke, sitting on the floor in front of him.

“Take it off,” Alex said, voice stern.

Luke laughed it off, which only made the pain worse. “Take what off?” His nervous laughter filled the studio followed by coughing.

“You think we didn’t notice?” Reggie said from up in the loft. He tossed one of Luke’s bigger hoodies that still had the sleeves on it over the railing before poofing to be next to the guitarist. “You died wearing it and haven’t taken it off since.”

Luke huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s not like I needed to breathe! And until just now I didn’t even notice the pressure.”

“Breathe?” Alex and Reggie looked up, seeing Julie with a water bottle in hand. The bottle dropped, plastic making it bounce a couple of times before stilling. “And the thing with rib pain earlier…” She walked up to her boyfriend, kneeling in front of him. “You don’t have to answer, but this sounds familiar. I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t be asking unless I figured that knowing would make me able to help more. Luke—” Julie looked him in the eyes, wishing she could hold his hands as she spoke to give some comfort. but that might make it worse. “—are you trans?”

Luke looks up, fear in his eyes. Thoughts ran through his head a mile a minute. _How did she find out? Is she going to want to date me anymore? Is she going to quit the band? How will I cope if she leaves? Fuckfuckfuckfuck._

She seems to see his panic and backtracks. “I’m so, so, sorry if you’re not and this makes it seem like I’m assuming things, but with the breathing problems and the sudden need to rest and the rib pain… It all sounds like what one of the boys at school was talking about during one of our gay club meetings. And if you are I want to be supportive and help in any way that you’ll let me.” Her words rush out, apologizing for what she said, telling them that it was rude of her to ever ask and that she shouldn’t have, it’s none of her business, that she wouldn’t have asked without a reason.

The other two boys in the room got it, nodding along to her apology while they tried to comfort their friend.

But the one she was apologizing to didn’t hear any of it. Luke was quiet, his brain still telling him that this was a bad idea. All he could do was let out some tears before grabbing the hoodie Reggie had brought him and fleeing off to the bathroom to change.

Yanking his binder off proved to both lessen and enhance his dysphoria. Now he couldn’t feel the pressure of having his chest tied down, reminding him that he had breasts, but now everyone else could see that he had them. Luke put his shirt back on, slipping the hoodie over his head, and poofed off to the beach where he didn’t have to deal with the fact that he was just basically forced out of the closet by his girlfriend.

He chewed on the sleeves of his hoodie, having chewed the strings out long ago, staring out at the people on the beach. Now everything felt wrong. His skin pulled tight and he felt all of the body dysphoria he thought he had escaped after becoming a ghost.

The corners of his sleeves were soaked in his saliva before he got tired of staring at the people on the beach who all just reminded him of what he could never be. He poofed into the bike shop that stood where the Peters’ house had once been.

There was only one worker, a teenager dressed in all black. But it was the music playing over the speakers that he really noticed. It was classical. Something he didn’t expect from a bike shop, but it helped. Classical had been the only genre he ever listened to before developing his own music taste. His mother and father were both classically trained string players who had signed Luke up for viola lessons as soon as he expressed interest in his parents’ instruments, so their house was always full of symphonies.

As much as it hurt to hear music that he always associated with his parents, it was nice to have something else to focus on. Now Luke just focused on picking apart the instruments used during each section, wondering how he would play it if given the sheet music. It was calming to try and remember each position and each fingering. It was calming to try and pick apart each line, each note, in order to try and find the key.

His concentration was broken by the sound of the phone ringing. The employee sighed, rolling their eyes as they picked it up. At the same time that happened, Luke heard a little “poof” next to him. He turned only to see Alex.

“How did you even think to check here?”

“Saw your silhouette in the window as we checked the beach,” Alex said.

Luke groaned at the “we.” That meant that the others were here.

“Did you tell her?”

“No.”

Luke fell silent once more. A part of him was glad that the boys hadn’t spilled his secret. It wasn’t theirs to tell, after all. But another part of him wished that they had just told Julie. That would have taken all of the pressure off of him.

He looked at Alex as the final notes of Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons: Summer” faded and the host began to introduce the next piece.

“Can you tell her for me? I’m pretty sure that she already knows after earlier, j-just confirm it for her.” The guitarist hated that he had to ask—it put unfair pressure on Alex. Having to ask someone else to come out for him was a coward’s move, but Luke was so, so scared. He didn’t want to have to face Julie, knowing that no matter what she said, it was likely to worsen his mood. And that would worsen his dysphoria as his mind sat in its darkest corners.

“Yeah.” Alex nodded, poofing back out to the beach.

Luke turned around in the bike shop so he could see his bandmates. Even though he couldn’t hear them, he could tell exactly when the words left Alex’s mouth. He could tell because he knew Julie’s body language. He saw her nod and bite her bottom lip before opening her mouth to talk.

He could imagine her voice as she told the boys how she didn’t love him anymore. Logically, Luke knew that this wouldn’t be something that Julie would break up with him over. She often talked about Los Feliz’s gay club (the official title was the Los Feliz GSA, but no one called it that, according to Julie) and supporting her non-cis friends. But anxiety is a bitch. The voice in his head said that the reason he saw tears on his girlfriend’s cheeks was because she thought he had lied to her. The voice in his head said that he was about to get broken up with.

Luke decided that the voice in his head was a little bitch and poofed out of the bike shop, landing next to Julie.

She turned to him, wiping her tears. “You know I don’t think of you any differently because of this, right?” Her eyes were wide, pleading him to soak in her words. She loved him and nothing would change that.

I kn-know, j-just…” He pursed his lips, bringing his sleeve up once more. Luke hated his stupid stutter, especially when it came to difficult conversations. He chewed on his sleeves, trying to find the words. “Anxiety.” It was all that he could come up with as an explanation without devolving into word vomit.

Julie nodded in understanding. “Anxiety’s a bitch.”

The group fell quiet as Luke flopped onto the beach. He removed his sleeve for a moment to ask for hugs, which the boys gave. Julie sat next to him and held his hand so she wouldn’t be seen hugging air. They may have figured out how to talk to them in pubic (a pair of cheap earbuds with the wires cut off made for an excellent pair of fake AirPods that made people think she was just on the phone), but they couldn’t figure out how to make her be able to touch them in public without looking insane.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was out of line, that was an invasive question that I shouldn’t have asked. I keep talking about boundaries and yet I completely broke one of yours today.”

“It’s fine.” His voice was muffled from the stimming, but the words were easy enough to make out.

Julie looked to her metamour, asking for help. Reggie had known Luke a lot longer, so she figured he might be able to get the point across a little better. Reggie shook his head. This was between her and Luke.

“Hey buddy, are you better enough that Alex and I can leave? I think you and Julie need to have a talk—boyfriend to girlfriend.”

Luke snorted. “But you’re my boyfriend, idiot.” His eyes got sad once again, “But you’re right. See you guys.”

Reggie and Alex poofed out, heading back to the studio.

“You may say it’s fine Luke, but that’s not going to stop me from apologizing. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“But y-you’re my girlfriend… Doesn’t that make it your bus-business?”

“Only if you wanted it to be. If it’s to become my business then you have to be the one to make it my business. You would have had to have told me first.” She shed a few tears, trying to hold back from crying until they finished this conversation. “I’m sorry I took that opportunity away from you.”

“I wanted to tell you, but I figured it didn’t matter anym-more—” he laughed at Julie’s confused eyebrows, “I haven’t felt major body d-dys-dysphoria until t-today. And I’m air, so I haven’t taken off my b-binder all this time.” Julie gasped. “It’s off right now if that’s what you’re worried about,” he glanced at his chest, nervous. “But, yeah, it’s not like I can do anything about it. I’m intangible, so I’m stuck in the body I had when I died.

“I figured that I would t-tell you down the line, after we had m-more time to get used to our relationship. But then dysphoria hit me all at once during rehearsal. Suddenly I could feel all of the things that I got rid of when I be-became a ghost.

“Sorry that you have a broken boyfriend.” He ended his explanation and stared down at the sand, putting a finger in his mouth, nibbling on the tip to give his sleeve a break. He didn’t want to ruin another one of his dysphoria hoodies. A few holes were nothing, but too many would destroy the sleeve.

“You are not broken. Not in any way.” Julie says, grabbing onto Luke’s shoulders so he has to look her in the eyes. At this point, she only cared about getting her boyfriend to believe her, not the people who would think she was crazy as she held onto nothing. “You are Luke, mine and Reggie’s precious boyfriend, a massive dork, guitarist for Julie and the Phantoms, one of the best songwriters I’ve ever met. There is nothing wrong with you—you’re just you. No one is broken, they just have different pieces. _Please_ don't ever refer to yourself as broken ever again.”

“Okay,” he whispered, fear still jostling his thoughts around. “Let’s go home and cuddle pile with Reg.”

Julie laughed softly, sounding like a fairy from Tinker Bell. “Sounds amazing.”

**Author's Note:**

> sorry about the sudden ending, i just suck at endings that aren't either "this could be a transition" or "everyone died. the end."


End file.
